The Imitation Game ✓

THIRTY | WELCOME TO NEW YORK, PT. I

They say that the first step of any journey is usually the hardest to take, and for Rasmus, that turned out to be true. He found it substantially easier to open up to Cora from then on, offering up fragments of his stories in a gradual stream that prevented him from becoming too overwhelmed by the weight saying too much too fast.

Some things he needed to shut off entirely for now. He said nothing more of his dad hurting him, but instead explained how his mom turned a blind eye to it, or how he'd spent the past fifteen years feeling like he had to be a brother, father, and mother to Ava all at once. That he even sucked at doing therapy right, which was supposed to be impossible to suck at. It helped that Cora was a good listener, not asking too many questions because she knew it wasn't her life to pick apart and scrutinize.

She had her own fair share of demons, too, and it was unexpectedly relieving to realize that he hadn't been the only kid in the idyllic suburb of Rothbury who was fucked up in the head. He'd been telling himself forever that since he was so privileged, he had no excuse not to get over his issues and be the perfect poster child everyone wanted him to be, but she was helping him see that the world wasn't always so black and white. That sometimes even the perfect girls from the perfect households with the perfect lives were still messed up.

By the time Monday rolled around again and it was time for him to go to his appointment with Dr. Pierce, Rasmus felt like he had an infinite number of things to fill her in on—so much so that for the first time ever, he quickly jotted his thoughts down in the notes app on his phone beforehand. It had only been two weeks since he'd seen her, which would have only been one had she not been out last week with a migraine, and yet his last conversation with her somehow felt like it had happened in another life entirely.

So as soon as he'd gotten to her office, sat down in his usual seat, and she'd closed the door behind them, he jumped straight to it.

"I told Cora," he said.

Dr. Pierce clicked her pen, ready to take notes. "Told Cora about what?"

"My dad."

Rasmus thought he saw her almost smile, but it was equally possible that he was imagining it. She was pragmatic, not precisely the sunniest person he knew. "And how did that go?"

"Surprisingly well," he replied before processing that she would surely want to hear at least a mildly substantial explanation of what actually happened. So he added, "She, um, she obviously hadn't known I was ever going through that. But she has her own stuff too, so she wasn't weird about it."

"Did she tell you that? About her own 'stuff?'"

"Yeah."

Dr. Pierce was silent for a moment as she scribbled something down, but Rasmus thought she definitely looked pleased. "So, to reiterate—you opened up to Cora and that made her comfortable enough to share more about herself with you in return? How did that make you feel?"

He nodded. "Good. It feels good. I guess I hadn't considered how different it might be to talk to someone who wasn't right there watching me go through all that shit, you know?"

"I would say that's exactly the logic that keeps me employed," Dr. Pierce pointed out whilst allowing herself a small grin. "Does talking with someone more detached from the situation make you feel less pressured to respond to it a certain way, perhaps?"

"Yeah, for sure."

"Do you plan to continue talking to her?"

Another sheepish nod. Rasmus was trying not to smile like a kid who had successfully talked to his crush, but the reality was that he'd been more at peace in the past week than he could remember ever being in his whole life and it was largely due to the newfound feeling of companionship he had with Cora. Now that he didn't have to feel like two sides of himself were fighting against each other all the time, he felt much more whole.